


March Sixteenth

by Lauren (notalwaysweak)



Category: Red Dwarf
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-07-14
Updated: 2002-07-13
Packaged: 2017-10-05 21:51:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notalwaysweak/pseuds/Lauren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is my attempt to describe, in loving detail, the events of March the sixteenth -- the day all will remember, from 'Thanks for the Memory', was the day that Arnold J. Rimmer finally lost his virginity, at the age of thirty-one.</p><p>Dedicated to Cee Dee.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Red Dwarf characters belong to Grant Naylor.

Rimmer jabbed the 'up' button again and glared at the stubbornly closed lift doors. He'd just finished another wholly unsatisfactory day with Z-shift and saw no reason to finish his bad mood just because he was off duty. He was exhausted -- thirty-three vending machines had needed maintenance today and he was ready to go and sleep for a couple of hours before he got stuck into some serious studying. Four hours of Pierre Chomsky whittering on about his impending promotion had done nothing for him either -- the only reason Chomsky hadn't been promoted already, like most of the rest of Z-shift (bar Lister, and Rimmer himself of course), was because he was forty-eight, only knew a few words of English, and had two hearing aids.

Finally, the lift arrived. It disgorged no passengers -- at this time of the day everyone who had a proper job was still working. But there was one person in there when Rimmer went in, and it was a woman. Rimmer deliberately took a long time choosing his floor from the touch-screen so that he could sneak little sideways glances at her. Her head was swathed in a white bandage, but the hair curling from underneath it was brunette, and her face was very pretty. Rimmer sat across from her and tried not to stare openly, but it was difficult. She looked at him and smiled.

Something inside Rimmer's mind ticked over. His mouth opened, and he winced, prepared for some kind of inanity to babble out. And as it happened, he wasn't far wrong... at least to begin with.

'Um, excuse me for asking, but why the... white? Are you a Buddhist or something?' He thought it was Buddhists who wore turbans, wasn't it? Or something like that. Maybe it was Hindus. Maybe it wasn't anybody. Oh God, what a stupid question to ask, no matter who it was!

She smiled again. 'No. Actually, I've just come from the medi-bay, concussion ward; I was down in the cargo bay looking for someone when I got hit on the head. They told me later that someone dropped a winch on me. I was lucky to get away with only a concussion. I'm so glad I'm free -- I was in there for weeks.'

'Oh.' Rimmer's mind thought frantically about something clever to say while his mouth continued on its merry way without him. 'That's so sad. I mean, I'm sorry. Um... do you feel all right?'

He couldn't believe it; she actually giggled. 'I'm fine, Rimmer.'

'Whu- how did you know my name?' He still didn't know hers, and couldn't see her nametag from where he was sitting.

Getting up, she came and sat beside him. _McGruder_, he read. 'I know you. Actually, I've known you for a while. I just never got a chance to speak to you -- you were always so busy.'

Why on Earth did she pay any attention to him? 'Sorry.'

'It's not your fault.' She held out one hand. Though short, her nails were well-kept, and her skin was soft when Rimmer touched it. 'Yvonne McGruder. Geo-mapper, second class.'

'Arnold J. Rimmer, first tech... wait, you already know that.' Nervousness had given way to a kind of boldness. 'Where are you headed now?'

'Quarters. I need a bath and a decent sleep.'

'I'd like to see that,' Rimmer said without thinking. Then he went red. 'I mean... because nobody ever gets proper sleep on here, I mean because there's always something, jobs, work to be done...' Nervousness was king again.

McGruder was laughing again. 'Rimmer. I knew what you meant. Don't worry.' She squeezed his hand and let it go. 'And don't panic.'

For want of anything to say, Rimmer looked up at the floor indicator, and realised that they were crawling even slower than usual. 'This lift's slower than rush hour,' he muttered.

'Why _do_ they call it 'rush' hour? It's the slowest time of day. Everything gets backed up,' McGruder said. 'It's worse on some planets than others, though.'

'Where do you live?' Rimmer asked.

'I have a place on Miranda, but it's probably been condemned,' McGruder said. 'I brought nearly everything with me. It's alright. I don't even miss it any more.'

'I miss home, but not my family. They were all terrible,' Rimmer said.

'You're roommates with Dave Lister, aren't you?' McGruder asked.

_Oh. Here it comes._ He'd seen this before, once or twice. Some woman would talk to him in hopes of getting a date with Lister. Why any woman would be so desperate to be with Lister, let alone to go by such a circuitous route to get him, was right over Rimmer's head.

'If you mean the curry-eating semi-human bloke who sleeps in the top bunk, yes. "Lister"'s only a nominal title for him. "Scumbag" might be better. Or "Human Garbage Disposal".' _Great one. That's really going to ingratiate her to you._

But she was laughing again. 'You're funny. I like you!' She looked at him closely. 'You're cute, too.'

Rimmer felt a hot flush spread over his face from the chin up. Simultaneously, a hot flush spread somewhat lower down. She really did like him. His mouth opened and responded completely independently of his brain.

'Are you sure you're not still concussed?'

Rather than taking offence, she shook her head. 'No. I know what you mean -- you don't get much attention, do you?' A polite way of saying that she'd noticed that nobody ever spoke to him unless they were insulting him, and that the only women who noticed him were the ones who fell over him in the corridor when he was trying to fix a dispenser.

'Not really...' Rimmer tried to look disinterested. 'I don't really care.'

'Oh.' McGruder recognised this game. 'Then I guess you don't really want to come have supper with me in my quarters tonight. I guess I'll have to ask Todhunter instead.'

Rimmer's vaguely indifferent front collapsed. 'Oh... no. No, I'll come, if you want. Where's your room?'

She wrote the number for him on the back of his hand, her little hands holding his feeling warm and gentle. He had to quell the thought of those hands elsewhere on his body. 'Seven o'clock all right?'

'Sounds good.'

They kept talking until the floor indicator beeped softly, and then Rimmer had to get off the lift and wave goodbye, calling 'See you later!'... and meaning it.

* * *

'Oh, you liar. I don't believe you.'

'It's true, Listy.' Rimmer waved his hand in front of Lister's face. 'Look, she wrote it herself. Her room number, the time. I have a date! I have a date!'

Lister's face split into a reluctant grin. 'Well. I guess I'm forced to believe you. What's her name again?'

'Yvonne. Yvonne McGruder.'

Lister hooted. 'Ha! She's just come out of the concussion ward! She probably has no idea who you really are, Rimmer. Obviously no sane woman could possibly want to date _you_.'

'She does! She's fine, you gimboid, or they never would've released her.' Rimmer was seething. 'You better not have spilled anything on my best shirt -- I know you were the one who left those dried peas stuck to it last time.'

Lister fished under his pillow and threw a white -- ish -- shirt at his roommate. 'There ya go, smeghead. Enjoy. Need any instructions?'

'I think,' Rimmer said in a very sarcastic tone, 'that I know how to behave around women, Lister.'

'I think,' Lister said, 'that I'm gonna be so happy when you finally get laid. You're such an uptight virgin that it's not funny. You need to learn that work is no substitute for the love of a woman.' He grinned, blew Rimmer a kiss, and jumped down off the bunk.

'Where are _you_ going?'

'For an idle walk through the Drive Room.' He grinned. 'Be a good boy.' And then he was gone.

As soon as he'd closed the door behind him, Rimmer yelled, 'Lock!' and dove for Lister's bunk. He knew there were a few Playboys hidden under the mattress. There wasn't time to sleep this afternoon. He had to get ready, and that included brushing up on a few... details.

* * *

'Who?'

'He's a technician, Fel. I _know_ I've mentioned his name before.' McGruder squinted into the mirror, holding her tweezers. 'Come and check my eyebrows, will you?'

'They're fine,' her roommate said without looking. 'I think I know the name Rimmer... isn't he the one who failed the nav exam because he didn't sleep the entire week before and started hallucinating that the other examinees were actually a posse of miniature giant space hamsters?' She grinned. 'Von, you're pushing it. You're concussed and he's a moron... what a pair.'

'Fel, shut up,' McGruder said.

'I wouldn't worry about your eyebrows. He'll probably think they're caterpillars anyway.'

'Fel...'

'That's if he doesn't think _you're_ a caterpillar making a cocoon, with that great thing on your head.'

'FORTUNE! SHUT UP!'

'He he,' Fortune said.

McGruder sighed and went back to staring into the mirror. 'What if he doesn't like me?' she said to it. 'What if he thinks I'm revolting?'

'Well, not to put too fine a point on it, but Bachman told me, and I quote, 'He's not copped a root yet'. He won't be too fussy. Besides, anyone who doesn't think you're absolutely ravishing is insane.' Fortune hopped down from her bunk and started pulling on her thigh-high boots.

'Where are _you_ going?' McGruder asked.

'Idle stroll through the Drive Room to see who and what's happening.'

'If you're going after Kochanski again...'

'Trust me, Von.' Fortune grinned. 'I'll stay away tonight.' She wriggled out of her uniform shirt and into a boob tube. 'I bet I'll find someone kind enough to lend me a bunk for the night. Failing that, I can always pass out on the dance floor.' She traded her regulation skirt for a mini. 'See you later, all right?' she sashayed out of the door and was gone.

As soon as she had left, McGruder locked the door and ran for the shower. She felt disgusting after all that time in the medi-bay with only sponge baths, and she needed to get clean.

* * *

At seven, on the dot, Rimmer knocked on the door of McGruder's quarters.

Now, neither of them actually said, 'Hey, let's procrastinate for thirty-one minutes then have sex.' It was just that Rimmer was there for ten minutes, they read through the entire list of pizzas available from the delivery service, and then settled on the one Rimmer always had: Quattroformaggio, with extra olives.

The other twenty-one minutes was how long it took for the pizza to be ordered, cooked, and delivered.

In those twenty-one minutes, it wasn't as if Rimmer and McGruder sat around and did nothing. They talked. In fact, Rimmer found himself holding his first remotely intelligent conversation with a female since talking baby talk to his little sister Natalie when she was first born. He managed not to revert to it whilst talking to McGruder.

Just.

It turned out that McGruder was quite interested in him. And his job. And in his opinion that the technicians were the backbone of the Space Corps (even though everyone thought Rimmer, personally, was spineless). It was probably fortunate that she wanted him to talk about himself, because he didn't have a clue what a geo-mapper did.

The pizza arrived, just as Fortune's bedside clock ticked over to seven-thirty-one. They split the bill - Rimmer insisted -- and McGruder gave the delivery boy an extravagant tip, as well as a fairly good view down the front of the shirt she was wearing with an extra button undone at the neck.

They sat in silence, eating, for perhaps five minutes. Then a strand of mozzarella, stretched from the slice McGruder had just bitten into, snapped and fell down her chin into her cleavage. Before he could stop himself, Rimmer had reached out to catch it, and found himself cupping one hand over her breast. She didn't back off. In fact, she reached up and held his hand there. Actually held it closer! Rimmer nearly fainted.

That was the beginning of the next part.

* * *

McGruder fell backwards onto her bunk, her black skirt riding up high around her thighs. Her hands were at Rimmer's waist, unbuckling his belt. She pulled it free and lightly swatted his arse with it. Anxious to please, Rimmer fumbled his own trousers down, not waiting for her to hit him again, then slid one nervous hand up under her skirt to...

...and she wasn't even _wearing_ panties. Had she been planning this?

'God, Yvonne...'

'Shut up and come here, tiger.'

She pulled him forward -- not by the hand -- and though they were awkwardly positioned, her half off the bunk, him nearly on his knees, he slid into her easily and smoothly. She sucked in a quick breath and grabbed his buttocks, pulling him hard against her, and bucking her hips up to meet his answering, tentative thrusts.

So it was true... he was untouched... she could tell just by how careful and nervous he was. But he was eager and willing, and his hands popped the buttons of her shirt easily enough. They weren't exactly in a position for him to get at the clasp of her bra, but his hands slid up to cover the rough lace and sleek satin and she moaned as his thumbs circled over the taut peaks of her nipples.

'Do it to me, baby.'

He was whimpering and she could feel that whatever he was going to do for her, it wasn't going to be for long... but then he moved slightly and suddenly, somehow, he was rubbing against her clitoris when he moved, and she clawed her neatly trimmed nails into his skin as she came, hips slamming upwards again and again.

Her climax brought his on, and she felt him pulsing hard inside her... but more than that, more than her orgasm, what gratified her was the expression of pure ecstasy on his face, and the sound of her name torn from his throat.

Neither of them realised that she hadn't spoken his name since the pizza arrived.

Fortune's clock ticked over to seven-forty-one.

* * *

Rimmer rose, sliding out from her sweetness, and grabbed for his trousers and underpants, pulling them on hastily, embarrassedly. McGruder reclined there a moment longer, watching him, then pulled the sides of her shirt closed and poked a few buttons back through their holes. She patted her skirt back into respectability and went to him, pulling his face down for a kiss.

The in-room computer binged and Holly's face appeared.

'Yvonne, you're wanted in the Drive Room.' No explanation. She didn't even think there was a reason. If this was Fortune playing tricks with her...

'I have to go,' she said. Her cheeks were a little red. 'Imagine if Holly had come a moment earlier...' She giggled, unselfconscious.

'When you did...' His eyes showed his awe of her. 'That was incredible.'

'I know, tiger, but I really have to hurry.' Now this felt weird... hurrying out of her own room. 'Come on... quick quick...'

They left the room, the door sliding shut to lock behind them, the pizza left to congeal on the plates, and beside the bunks Fortune's clock clicked over to seven-forty-three.


	2. Good Fortune

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this fic for Fia Fortune (fka Dervla Nightshade) and am tacking it on here as it fits in the same 'verse as March Sixteenth, but it's entirely optional and thoroughly a Mary Sue for my Fia.
> 
> Dedicated to my Fia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Red Dwarf characters belong to Grant Naylor. Fia Fortune belongs to herself.

Fortune wandered into the room, heard McGruder crying again, and knocked lightly on the bathroom door with her knuckles. 'Von? Von, you can't do this forever...' There was no response, and she tried again. 'Yvonne... come on out of there now, hon.' There was a definite lack of an answer. It was like talking to a wall. Fortune gave up and went to boil the kettle. McGruder would come out when she was ready.

'When she was ready' turned out to be almost half an hour later. The explanation was the same as usual - Arnold hadn't called. Arnold had never called. Arnold was, in short, a cretin. Who never called.

'Maybe he's waiting for _you_ to call,' Fortune suggested, making tea. The teabag was mildewed. So much for JMC storage policies -- she threw the bag into the bin and replaced it with a fresh one that, while possibly not perfect, was at least not a representative of the penicillin tribe.

'Why would he be?' McGruder stirred her tea moodily, took a sip, and spat it back out. 'The guy always calls the girl.'

'No. The guy always _promises_ to call and doesn't. He's not worth this heartache, Von,' Fortune countered. Actually, he was. He was a moron, sure, but Fortune had eyes, and he was a good-looking moron. 'D'you want to be with him or not?'

'I do!' McGruder said in a wail. 'But I just don't know...'

She was interrupted in her lament by a knock at the door. Nearly knocking Fortune and the kettle over, she bolted to answer it, and was disappointed to see only Lister, Arnold's scuzzy roommate, standing there.

'McGruder? Rimmer sent me. He wanted to know if you wanted to go to dinner tonight. He's been in the medi-bay,' Lister said, offering a grin.

'The medi-bay? Is he all right?'

'Just took another exam.'

'Oh,' McGruder said, rather deflated. The word 'medi-bay' had conjured up images in her head of herself nursing Arnie back to health. But his exams were legendary... he was probably under psychiatric care.

Lister looked nonchalantly past her into the room and spotted Fortune. His eyes went wide. He knew her - they had a common interest, and that was Kochanski -- and he also knew that she had had boyfriends. And that maybe she'd be open to having another one.

And _damn_, that girl was fine.

McGruder, meanwhile, was looking over her shoulder. 'Hey. Fortune. You going out tonight?'

'Not really,' Fortune said. She'd secretly been considering going up to the Drive Room and staring at Kochanski from a convenient hiding place -- that or learning to knit -- but it wasn't anything she couldn't cancel. 'Why?'

McGruder looked back at Lister. 'And you?'

Lister jumped. 'Huh? No, nothin', man,' he said, hoping McGruder had something interesting in mind.

'You two want to come with Arnie and I then? I'm sure he won't mind, and I'd love you to meet him, Fortune.'

Fortune grinned wryly. ''Von, I've _met_ him. It _was_ me who kept him entertained that time you were still in the shower when he arrived.'

'You didn't have to. I told you I didn't mind if he waited in the bathroom.'

Lister tried not to vomit. 'How's eight tonight at Parrot's sound?'

'Excellent,' Fortune purred, watching his reaction. 'I'll be there for sure.' Lister nodded, turned, and hobbled away, having some trouble walking due to the interesting events between his legs.

'Fortune, you little minx.' McGruder closed the door and shook her head, smirking. 'He won't be able to do _anything_ today.'

* * *

At ten past eight precisely the girls entered Parrot's, being fashionably late, as Fortune demanded. McGruder was chafing at the bit -- Fortune wouldn't've been surprised had she skipped the meal and gone straight to the dessert, so to speak.

The boys had dressed up. Fortune was vaguely impressed by the effort Lister had gone to, although she was more interested in subtly staring at Rimmer. Both of them were wearing a lot of black, and it looked good. Damn good.

The four of them arranged themselves around the table, Fortune purring a, 'Sorry we're late', which made Lister's knees go all wibbly. Rimmer just looked nervous and tried not to bite his nails. Sure, he was supposed to be with McGruder tonight, but no matter how much he tried, he couldn't keep from looking at Fortune. She had gone all out -- the outfit she was wearing was just a few wisps of material away from naked, and it was probably irrational to expect Rimmer _not_ to look. McGruder had noticed Fortune's efforts and was decidedly suspicious of her motives. She knew that Fortune didn't really fancy Lister.

One of the waiters brought them menus and bread rolls. Lister tore into his roll, slathering butter on it. Fortune looked at the way he was dropping crumbs down his shirt and pushed her plate away -- she wasn't going to compromise her outfit by getting bits of food on it. If she had to skip eating entirely, then so be it.

Scheming, however, only gets a person so far. McGruder was looking madder and madder as the night went on - sitting at a round table meant that McGruder was facing Fortune and they were both in between the boys, so to speak, and McGruder could see every action of Fortune's.

Their main course finished, Fortune gracefully excused herself and headed for the toilets, ducking under a parrot perch over the doorway. A real parrot was sitting on it, squawking occasionally in a desultory fashion. Fortune could feel the eyes of half a dozen men on her as she moved across the room, and -- she peeked -- yes, one woman was staring at her as well, almost drooling in fact. Fortune smirked to herself.

The bathroom door had barely swung shut behind her when it banged open again. McGruder looked _furious_.

'What the hell do you think you're doing, Fortune?' she hissed.

Fortune shrugged. 'Well, I _was_ about to "powder my nose",' she said, 'but if you gotta go _that_ bad...' There was only a single toilet stall, and a bench with a basin and a stuttering fluorescent light. 'I guess I can hold it.'

'You know what I'm talking about,' McGruder said. Her tone changed from angry to sad. 'I thought you were my friend, but you've been making eyes at my man all night.'

'Oh, _that_.' Fortune coughed discreetly. 'See, I thought it was _him_ making eyes at _me_. I'm sorry, but he just can't seem to stop staring at me.' She felt suddenly impatient with this woman. They had known each other for six weeks. It wasn't as if they'd been best friends since school. It wasn't as if Fortune owed her anything.

Someone knocked hesitantly on the door, then pushed it open a fraction. It was the woman who'd been staring at Fortune from across the room. 'Sorry, is anyone in here?' she asked, her eyes flicking from Fortune to McGruder.

'_Yes_,' Fortune and McGruder said in unison. 'Sorry. Use the guys' loo.' And McGruder nudged the door closed with her backside, still glaring at Fortune.

'If anything happens between you two,' she said, 'I'll disown you.'

Fortune shrugged. 'I'm not chasing him, okay? If anything, he's chasing me.' A little white lie never hurt anyone, she reasoned. Shame she'd told a dirty great black one. 'Go on back to the table. I'll be back in a minute. I need to pee.' She didn't, but she wanted to look composed when she got back, while McGruder was going to storm back looking all red in the face and... ick.

As McGruder pushed the door open to leave, Fortune spotted Rimmer, wandering down the corridor, looking half-lost, half-concerned. McGruder, apparently convinced that he _had_ been giving Fortune the eye, brushed past him, barely looking at him. Rimmer's puzzled eyes met Fortune's cool gaze. She smiled at him, raising an eyebrow at McGruder's retreating back, then grabbed his tie and reeled him into the bathroom.

Mission accomplished.

* * *

'What...?' Rimmer asked as Fortune locked the door.

'You've been staring at my breasts all night. What does that mean?' And without warning her tongue was in his mouth. Mmmm. He tasted like the frozen margaritas he'd been drinking. And he wasn't exactly pushing her away and running in horror. He was a _little_ overenthusiastic with his tongue -- she could forgive him that, the dear man. If he could use it that much _there_, he could certainly... well. If she got to experience her favourite 'c' word -- coitus, while nice, was merely a very close second -- then that was a bonus.

'Fortune... I'm supposed to be with Yvonne tonight,' Rimmer said when their kiss finally broke.

Fortune's other eyebrow went up. 'So? Haven't you ever watched any movies?' _And don't you know what I _want_, I _get_?_ she added mentally.

'Not really,' Rimmer said. 'Only a couple.'

'Right,' Fortune said. 'Well, this is the part where the devilishly sexy leading man and the apparently sweet but really _femme fatale_ lead female get it on. In the bathroom,' she added, just in case he was unaware of their surroundings. She backed up against the bench and pulled him against her, already feeling the evidence of his arousal against her thigh. And how nice it was for the ship's designers to think of her when they placed the bench. She hopped up onto it, pulled him close again, locking her legs around his waist. With the admirable foresight that made her so good at her job, she'd thought to wear a skirt. Without anything underneath it.

Rimmer gasped as he realised she was bare under the skirt. Common sense fled his mind, replaced with base desire, and he kissed her again, bruisingly hard. Her hands were already at his belt, flicking the buckle open with expert ease, yanking at the button of his fly.

'God... Fortune...'

'God? Maybe. There must be one, for you to be here,' Fortune said.

'Do you mean that?'

'Rimmer. I want you and I want you _now_. We can do mush and first names when we're married. Or something.' Fortune's hands were still working and Rimmer's trousers slid down to his ankles, his keys jingling. She slipped her fingers into the waistband of his underpants and yanked them down as well, and was greeted by his erect cock. 'Here.' She wriggled to the edge of the bench, her skirt sliding up, rucking around her waist. '_Now_.'

Rimmer's mind vacated his head. Most women never so much as _looked_ at him, and now one was jumping him in the bathroom of a popular restaurant. If this wasn't heaven, then God didn't exist after all. He could feel her hands, one leaving his cock and grabbing his arse, pulling him against her, the other hand guiding him into her. His knees went weak, but Fortune's legs locked around him and held him steady.

'We'll have to be quick, before Von twigs.' She landed another kiss, this one on the side of his neck.

'You don't think she has any idea?' Rimmer's mouth actually made coherent noises. Interesting.

Fortune snorted. 'Of course she's got some idea. We just have to finish before she kicks the fucking door in.'

It wasn't as if Rimmer had much choice. This contact with a woman, only his second time, was already making his mind spin. His hips were moving all by themselves, moving him into her, and she was obviously enjoying it. Confidence growing, Rimmer cupped her buttocks with his hands, holding her still so she didn't slide away from him every time he moved. Their eyes met and locked, and Rimmer let out a soft moan at the intensity of her gaze alone.

'Quiet. You want everyone to know what's going on in here?'

'Why not?' Rimmer thrust particularly hard and Fortune was hard put to stifle a moan of her own. 'I'm sure Yvonne knows already.'

'Yeah, but...' _Oooh_. 'We don't need to rub it in.'

'Whatever,' Rimmer said.

* * *

Three minutes later, McGruder raised her head from the table and glared at the doorway as twin cries of ecstasy cut through the air. Lister tried to put an arm around her, but McGruder broke away and ran from the restaurant. The woman who had interrupted her and Fortune earlier left her date and ran after her.

Lister sighed, watching the manager and three waiters running to the bathroom door, banging on it, trying to force the lock. He knew they'd come out when they were ready, looking just that little flushed, but mostly impeccable -- except someone's clothing would be torn somewhat, and there would be a lovebite on Rimmer's neck.

That was the way it was in the movies.

* * *

Good fortune came to all in the end, however.

Lister's first date with Kochanski was a few months later, but was worth the wait. After Fortune had ditched him for Rimmer he'd been reluctant to approach women.

Fortune came home that fateful night to find most of her possessions thrown haphazardly into the corridor. She gathered them up -- McGruder almost beaning her with the last item, a large lava lamp -- and moved in with Lister and Rimmer.

As for McGruder, the woman who'd chased her out of the restaurant made her realise something about herself she'd never known. Two days later, they announced they were moving in together. As a show of goodwill, Fortune came to help move the new woman's belongings in and caught the two of them _in flagrante delicto_ on the newly double bunk.

And they all lived happily ever after, at least until the Cadmium II explosion.


End file.
